𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 || 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

AVERY STREET leaned against the van, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves, catching the midday sunlight. She adjusted her tank top, which clung perfectly to her toned figure, the hem riding up just enough to reveal her defined stomach. Her infamous low-rise shorts, slung casually on her hips, completed the look, making her presence impossible to ignore. She crossed her arms, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as she watched JJ rummage in the glove box.

"JJ," she said, her voice sharp but smooth, dripping with exasperation. "What are you doing?"

JJ spun around, grinning as he pulled out a gun and held it up like a trophy. "What does it look like? You can never be too careful behind enemy lines."

Avery tilted her head, one brow arching in disbelief. "At a country club? Yeah, real dangerous. The most we're up against is a guy in a Ralph Lauren polo with a bad attitude."

John B groaned, leaning against the van. "Come on, man. Put it back."

JJ shrugged, inspecting the weapon with faux seriousness. "What? It's for safety."

"Safety?" Pope stepped closer, his voice rising with frustration. "I predict that bringing a gun to a four-star hotel is going to cause way more problems than it solves."

"Exactly," John B said, pointing at Pope. "Thank you."

Kie, already tired of the exchange, glared at JJ. "I swear to God, JJ, if you don't put that thing back, I'm throwing it in the ocean."

"You wouldn't," JJ said with a playful smirk.

Kie stepped forward. "Try me."

Avery smirked, leaning casually against the van door. "Kie will do it, and I'll help. You're outnumbered, Maybank."

JJ sighed dramatically, stuffing the gun back into the glove box. "Fine. But if we get ambushed by some country club cartel, don't say I didn't warn you."

Avery rolled her eyes, turning toward the others. "So, what's the plan? Please tell me we're not just winging it."

JJ grinned, brushing past her and holding up a badge that read Busboy. "The plan is pure genius. We're getting on the internet because only rich people have electricity right now." He gestured dramatically. "This way!"

The kitchen was a chaotic buzz of activity as the group slipped in through the side door. The smell of fresh bread and sizzling butter filled the air, and Avery couldn't help but take a deep breath.

JJ walked confidently through the room like he owned the place, throwing casual nods at the staff. "Andrew!" he called, spotting a young chef at the counter.

Andrew looked up, a grin spreading across his face. "Maybank, back already? What, they let you out of Pogue jail?" His eyes flicked to Avery, and his grin widened. "And you brought company. Avery Street in the flesh. Did you lose a bet or something?"

Avery flashed him a dazzling smile, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "Andrew, always a pleasure. And no bets, just babysitting this one." She nodded toward JJ, who smirked.

"Mama L!" JJ called to a woman stirring a pot near the stoves. "Good to see you!"

Mama L glanced over her shoulder, shaking her head. "You better not be causing trouble in my kitchen again, JJ."

"Trouble? Me? Never." JJ gave her his most charming smile, earning a pointed look from Avery.

Kie tugged at JJ's sleeve. "Can we focus, please?"

JJ led the way to a small computer station in the corner, gesturing with a flourish. "Behold, the internet. Sweet, sweet Wi-Fi. Thank God for Kooks and their backup generators."

Pope immediately slid into the chair, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "Sweet Lord, the internet! I've missed you," he said dramatically, earning a laugh from Avery.

JJ leaned over Pope's shoulder. "Move over. I gotta check my Insta models."

Kie smacked the back of JJ's head. "We don't have time for your nonsense."

"Hey! Hey!" JJ protested as Avery reached over Pope and snatched the map.

"I got the map," she said, holding it up. "Coordinates, anyone?"

Pope glanced up, adjusting his glasses. "Lay it on me."

Avery read the numbers aloud, her voice steady. "34° 57' 30" north. 75° 55' 42" west."

Pope's fingers flew over the keyboard again. "Boom. Continental shelf, right there."

Avery leaned in, her dark hair brushing against JJ's shoulder as she studied the screen. "That's not too deep, right?"

"It's only 900 feet," Pope said with a shrug. "Totally doable."

JJ grinned. "Oh yeah, piece of cake. Easy dive."

John B raised an eyebrow. "How do you know this, Mr. Dive Master?"

JJ crossed his arms, leaning back with a smug expression. "The salvage yard. They've got a drone that can drop 1,000 feet, with a 360 camera and everything. Perfect for deep dives."

Avery narrowed her eyes, skeptical but intrigued. "And how exactly are we getting this drone? Let me guess-it's 'borrowed.'"

JJ's grin widened. "It's in the impound yard out back. Totally accessible. We just need a plan."

John B frowned. "And your dad can't help us out?"

JJ's expression darkened briefly before he covered it with a smirk. "Yeah, no. My dad's 'help' got him fired. Turns out salvage captains don't appreciate shitfaced employees."

"How much did you say was on the Royal Merchant again?" JJ added, quickly changing the subject.

"Four hundred million," John B said.

JJ whistled low. "Four hundred million dollars. Just sitting there, waiting for us."

Pope moved to block the door. "No. Absolutely not. This is insane!"

"Pope, move," Kie said, trying to shove past him.

Pope stood firm. "Can we do one thing-just one thing-legal for money?"

Avery placed a hand on his shoulder, her smile calming. "Pope, it's fine. We've got this. Trust us."

"Easy for you to say," Pope muttered, stepping aside.

JJ clapped Avery on the back as they headed out. "You know, you make a solid hype woman. Might have to keep you around."

She smirked. "Yeah, well, don't push your luck, Maybank."

As they exited the kitchen, the hum of the country club faded behind them, but the weight of the treasure hunt only grew heavier.